Game Pieces
by CallMeAWota
Summary: In which two runaways stumble upon a broken home and find shelter in it and find themselves as players of a sick game for the Anonymous. Karma sucks. It really does. / No couplings. No Innocence. No OCs! Probably. AU!
1. Chapter 1

Game Pieces

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><p>Summary: In which two runaways stumble upon a broken home and find shelter in it and find themselves as players of a sick game for the Anonymous. Karma sucks. It really does.<p>

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><p><em>Chapter one<em>

There was a soft buzzing that soothed her rather than disturbed her. The faded images that came to her like a slideshow could have made her cry, and nonetheless did sometimes. She had a life before her... departure of sorts from home. In her half-asleep state, she squeezed her companion's hand softly, receiving an immediate reply of reassurance. A smile glaced on her face issued another soft squeeze from the others' as her companion hugged her tightly, as though to warm them both up from the coldness surrounding them and the unfamiliar surroundings.

There was peacefulness for once. There was an deathly ill silence all-around, one that made the buzzing in her ear louder as she came back to consciousness. She layed in her companion's arms for awhile, hugging him back with pure happiness. Her eyes opened to the chest of her sleeping companion. She hugged him tightly once again, comforted by his presence and glad of his existence.

Ever since her and her friend's runaway stunt, everything had been hectic. But the adrenaline of running away was nothing like she'd ever felt before. For that, she didn't regret her mindless decision of abandoning her home for the thrill.

At least, not yet.

The ever-so-slight light seeped through the thin sheets of the curtains, and much to her discontent, aimed at her face, urging her awakening to come quickly. She pressed her hands against the wooden boards of the floor and pushed herself up to comply in the light's call. She stretched her muscles, as much as it would to help her fatigue slowly extract from her body.

She lifted her companion's hand to sneak a peek at the time, reading it as 6:52am. She shook him awake, his arms moving as well. "Allen, we should head out now," she said, earning a small grumble.

"Time?"

"Almost 7," she replied, before sliding her hand down his arm and feeling a moist texture. She shrugged it off, thinking it as sweat and forgetting the contradicting thought.

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><p>Allen, a boy who grew with unique white hair, groaned, finding no will to move from his place. But in a contradictory act, he slid up the wall to feel a cold slimy feeling on his neck. His eyes opened quickly and pushed himself off the wall, turning around to look at the peeling wallpaper. His eyes squinted, for the sun was taking its time rising up and showing itself to the world once again. Darkened letters were slowly revealing itself as light poured into the ill-lighted room.<p>

"What's wrong, Allen?"

"That," Allen pointed, pulling the girl away to show her the single sentence painted on the wall in a horrifying font.

In a color of a sick bloody color, the words splayed on the wall, "To devour... or to be devoured..." left a sudden incomprehensible horror in both hearts.

A missing area of a single letter indicated the area where both Lenalee and Allen slept last night. In a small realization, he slid his hands to his arms and his hair, meeting the same gooey substance he felt earlier. Knowing that he slept without suspecting a thing, and knowing that he was possibly touched by whoever or whatever did _this_, made his blood pump fast in displeasure. He was a light sleeper, and there was no way that could've happened without him waking up.

"What do you think it means?" Lenalee said in a strangled way.

Allen shook his head, pulling her into a protective hug, "I don't know, Lenalee, but I think we should leave. _Now_." They grabbed both of their bags, heading straight for the door before a resounded creak came from the floor above. Still with this sound, they moved ahead towards the door that issued a loud click of locking.

At this sound, they ran to the door, pulling on it harshly and succeeding with nothing. Allen kicked it with all his might, hoping to kick down the worn out door. It did not budge.

"This isn't possible," Allen said. "We're trapped in here."

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><p>Lenalee panicked, pounding on the door once again second after the last sentence Allen muttered. It <em>couldn't<em> be. They _couldn't_ be trapped. The door's lock was broken, they checked before they stepped into the house!

This was not good. Not good at all. Lenalee honestly did not want to be stuck in a place like this and possibly die from starvation or fright, and she was absolutely sure Allen didn't either.

She kicked at the door again, hoping that it would get weaker and weaker as long as she kicked hard enough.

Allen however, leaned onto the wall, ruffling his hair, and hoped this was all an entire dream. He hoped it was all just a prank done by someone, who though it would be funny on their side of the story. A march of thumps filled his ear, suddenly alerting him once again, stopping Lenalee's attempts of breaking the seemingly weak entrance door, forcing her to listen carefully as the sounds became louder.

This was the part where Allen and Lenalee ran and hid, and did a bad job at it (which they realized and let themselves out in the open to face their fears).

Just before the stairs were a small army of filthy miniature toys, the size of a normal porcelain dolls.

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><p>Let your imagination roam, because I'm not going to tell you why they ran away unless I feel like it. -blows raspberries-<p>

I plan to give you lot a gallon of suspense and more. (: BUCKLE UP? Hopefully, I'll get to the second chapter soon, along with chapter four of Blood on Their Hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Game Pieces

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><p><em>Chapter two<em>

Their light stomps resembled a symbol for the climaxing horror, heavily dreading what was going on. There was no possible way that dolls, much less _porcelain dolls_, could move by themselves.

This was too much like a horror film already, a bit too out of the ordinary to be an actual prank anymore. (Plus, this far for a prank?)

They stopped at the foot of the stairs. An eerie silence while the dolls unblinkingly stared at the two. A sudden pounce from the first row of doll activated Lenalee's instinct to kick them away. She took hold of Allen's hand as they ran into a vacant room, catching their breaths as they glow of the sunlight beat its way through the dark fabric of the curtain and onto the desk that illuminated a small chest and key to match and four objects on the small desk in the center.

They walk toward the desk, careful of any sudden ambushes. Slowly, Allen picked the key up and made no hurry to open it, as if a horrifying secret layed within. As innocent as it may have looked, a card lay in it, waiting to be picked up and read. Allen opened it, the words that were written in a neat font, it said:

"Welcome to my horrorific game! Resistance is futile. Escaping is futile. In other words, you play, or you play. Or you may die. Two weapons, a sewing kit, and a small first aid kit are supplied for you.

Here are the rules! If you can survive 24 hours in this beautiful house of horror, I will call off **everything**, and you guys can roam free. Merry Huntings!

Good luck. You two will need it."

Allen resisted the motive to crumple the card up and demand a way out from this game of this preposterous game from this Anonymous person. He slammed his hand onto the table, frightening Lenalee because of her high strungness.

"What's wrong, Allen?" Lenalee asked, lightly touching Allen's shoulder.

"We're on a chess board," Allen said vaguely, composing himself before reaching for the first weapon, a slightly rusty steel bat, and the first aid kit. He handed Lenalee the sewing kit and a dull knife left on the desk.

"What do you mean?" Lenalee said, understanding fully as she gained a grip on the objects she was handed.

"Use your brain, Lenalee. You understand exactly what I mean," Allen said. "We're stuck here for 24 hours in this horror hellhole with no provisions but the little that we have left, and Lenalee, we might _die_."

Allen took small strides towards the sofa chair, setting his equipment on the dusty coffee table beside it. He sighed, leaning forward to have his elbows rest on his knees. He rubbed his eyes in frustration as he tried to come up with some sort of plan, "We shouldn't have run away. We had nothing to gain from it but the adrenaline it gave us."

"Allen, I-I agree..." Lenalee said, catching Allen's attention, his face in a shocked expression though unseen. She continued on in order to clear a small misunderstanding, similarly taking the same steps toward Allen. "that maybe we shouldn't have run away, but are you telling me you regret it? The adrenaline may be worth running away, just not this."

"That's just it! This isn't worth it!" Allen said, his hands flying in the air. His expression was deeply saddened just being thinking about it. "We had almost everything. A family, a home, but we ran away from it just for the adrenaline. I don't want _this_ kind of adrenaline, Lenalee. I don't want you to die!"

"We didn't know this would happen!" Lenalee said. "We were just acting like crazy teenagers who just thought, 'Hey! This will be fun!'," Lenalee reasoned for his consciousness' sake, knowing perfectly well how easily guilt could get to him. She set her equipment down beside his, and embraced him, though straddling him at the same time. "We can't read the future, Allen."

There was a moment of silence for Allen to calm down. He hugged her back as a sign of his new found peace of heart, which quickly disintegrated as soon as the thumps came back. The loudest thump stopped at the same door they stepped through moments ago and locked thoroughly.

Unwilling to crumble down to their possible demise, they readied themselves for an ambush to come. Their minds focused on one thing, Allen lifted up his weapon of choice and swung as soon as Lenalee motioned to open the door with a quick swing. He swung with nothing hitting on the other end. Below, doll parts were scattered on the floor, all the heads looking up to remind and taunt them of their situation.

They carefully observed the parts as they took their time stepping away from the scattered pile.

And who could blame Lenalee when one doll came together automatically to grab her by the foot? She screamed and kicked at the doll, forcing the doll to fall apart again. Allen took a careful swing at the doll as he tugged on her arm to usher her away.

They approached the living room of shady light and fabric covered furniture. However one note lay standing on the coffee table, which Allen took without hesitation. "That was sweet. You must love her very much, 'Allen,' but that wasn't nice of you to do that to my pretty dolls. They were precious to me when I was alive. You might want to pay for it, but what to get in return..."

"But remember this, 'Allen' and 'Lenalee,' you are not alone... You... are not... alone."

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><p><strong>Hola, chicos y chicas. (Psh. I know it should just be chicos, according to my teacher, but fuck this. I'm in my world, and that does not apply.) I hope you enjoyed the new chapter of Game Pieces. Feels romantic, ahaha~<strong>

**If you ask me, I've never watched a full-blown horror movie before. Only Black Christmas, The Messengers, The Descendants, and only about 60% of the Orphanage. _Orphanage_, not Orphan.**

**Otherwise, my D. Gray-Crazy folks, I'm apologize for not getting this out sooner! Book reports and such are due soon, as well as CSTs (which are like... State Tests or something... meh.) are coming up, along with end-of-the-school-year projects and shit.**

**I'm also sorry for not finishing the next chapter of Blood on Their Hands yet. To be honest, I don't know how to start out that chapter, but I will come around to it eventually.**


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